Verhaal
by weiss kittyn
Summary: Omi reflects on his strange life by telling the stories of himself and his comrades. kinda dark. If this confuses anyone, please, leave a review. I'll get back to you and try to straighten things out. And besides, I love reviews.
1. Prologue :: Verhaal Inizio

Verhaal

by weiss kittyn

Armies have conquered And fallen in the end Kingdoms have risen Then buried by sand The Earth is our mother She gives and she takes She puts us to sleep and In her light we'll awake We'll all be forgotten There's no endless fame But everything we do Is never in vain :NeverEnding Story:Within Temptation:

My name is Takatori Mamoru. Well, at least thats the name I was born under. I've had many names since then. Bombay. Weiß.Omi. I have to admit, that of all of them, I miss Omi the most. I have the fondest memories as Omi. Now, I am nameless, really. I answer to any name you wish to call me. 

I didn't come here to tell you about my name. I came with a story. It's not a very good story, or very long... But its all mine. It's the only thing I have left that I can call mine any more. Not even my heart. I gave that away to a special person. I never once regretted the loss, though I sometimes wonder. 

What would have gone differently, had I not? 

I'm not old... Not by any stretch of the imagination. But often, I feel older than the planet itself. I wonder why I'm still alive after all this time, and then I remember that I'm only twenty nine. Imagine that. I could be ninety, but I'm barely thirty. My love would have been twenty seven. Yesteryday, I believe. I put flowers on his gravesite to honor him. I also saw the oldest one there. I think he knew I was going to be there at that time, and arranged to be there to meet me. The oldest one has the Sight. It made him a very dangerous enemy, and a valuable ally. 

When he chose to ally himself with me. 

Truly, he had no choice. But that is another story. Maybe I'll tell you that one? It would certainly fall within the boundaries of mine. Very well, if you insist. I will tell his story. I will tell the stories of us all. How we started. How we came to be. And how we came to cease to be. 

Here are the stories. Here is my verhaal. 


	2. 1 :: Mamoru Takatori

Chapter OnE: Mamoru Takatori

Please, please forgive me,  
But I won't be home again.  
Maybe someday you'll look up,  
And, barely conscious, you'll say to no one:  
"Isn't something missing"  
:Missing:Evenescence:

"Mamo-chan!" 

"Over here!" 

His brothers were calling! He had to find them before they reached the home base, or else he'd never get a chance to hide. Hiding was the funnest part of this game! Their taunts followed him wherever he went, letting him know when he was going the wrong way, and teasing him when he missed them. 

It sounded mean, but they meant well, and he loved them. They were his brothers. His family. His mama was dead, and his papa seemed to hate him. His uncle was a nice enough person, when he was around enough for interaction. 

He searched with all his might, but no matter how hard they teased or taunted him, he couldn't find them. Finally, the maid called them all in for dinner. Mamoru's shoulders slumped, dejected that he'd lost yet again. Sighing, he held back until his brothers had gone inside, and he contemplated their hiding places with childish simplicity. He could tell from the scuffle marks in the dirt that they'd moved around a lot to avoid him, which wasn't Against The Rules, it just wasn't fair. So engrossed was he with his perusal of the ground, that he didn't notice the men stalking up behind him until they had grabbed him. His startled cry was muffled by a large hand shoved roughly across his mouth. He was swept off his feet, and bundled under the arms of his attackers. They were gone as quickly as they had come, whisking the child away into the shadows of the twilight.

Extreme, torment of the mind Subsconcious, confusion reigns Supreme childhood terror Causes, silent scream 

Mamoru cowered in terror, bound hand and foot, and not knowing where he was. The last thing he remembered was hitting his head on the hard metal of the van they'd literally tossed him into, and then... nothing. When he woke up, he'd found he couldn't move, and there was something around him that smelled FOUL. He whimpered, and heard someone chuckle. 

"The brats' awake now. Should we call his father?"

"You wanna do the honors?"

"Sure." 

A light nearly blinded him for a moment, and then as his eyes adjusted, he saw two men, scarred and leering, at a telephone. 

"We have your son. Pay the ransom, or you'll never see him alive again." one of them growled. Afterward he slammed the phone down, and got into Mamoru's face.

"What terrible parents you have. Your father said he wouldn't pay."

The two men advanced on him, leering maliciously, when suddenly one of them was ripped away. A deafening roar thundered through the small room, and Mamoru hunched his shoulders, trying to block out the sound. Again the noise blistered his ears, and then everything was strangely quiet. A dark figure, this one not as threatening as the two before, bent down and began to untie Mamoru's bonds. When he was free, a rough voice told him to come with him. 

The man took his hand, and they ran together to freedom. A red-haired woman waited by a car, and as soon as they got in, she floored it, and sped away. 

"Mamoru, you must listen to me. Your name will be Omi from now on, do you understand? Omi Tsukiyono."

Mamoru -- Omi -- nodded his head. The man hugged him close, surprising both Omi, and the red-headed lady.

"You're not hurt, are you Omi?"

He shook his head. "They didn't hurt me. Except my wrists. They hurt from the ropes." The man nodded, and gently massaged the offended limbs. 

"Better?"

Nod. 

"Good. Omi, my name is Persia. This is Manx. This is your new home. We call it Kritiker." 


	3. 2 :: Nameless One

ChApTeR tWo: Nameless

Yes. That was how I came to be with Kritiker. Back then I didn't know that 'Persia' was in truth my father. Knowing now doesn't change anything. He was killed by my REAL uncle, Takatori Reiji.

We're part of a story, part of a tale We're all on this journey No one is to stay Where ever it's going What is the way?

It was under Persia's guidance, and the tutelage of numerous teachers and senseis from all around the world. I was to learn computer hacking, hand to hand combat, close and long range weapon use, history, english, spanish, german, chinese, science, and math. Things any well-rounded person should know. But, I digress. I will return to these things some other time. Some time, when the pain they recall is not so fresh in my mind. I tell you now, the tale of the second, where I was the first. 


End file.
